Harry Potter and the Ripple Effect
by Delphine Aideen Black
Summary: Learning of manipulations and betrayals, Harry soon finds out his parents are not dead. Crossover between Harry Potter and Lord of the rings
1. Chapter 1

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter._**

 ** _Summary: When Harry is betrayed people who he thought was his friends, betrayed for fame, money and influence. After learning of his heritage, of multiple lordship, plus some lines that had thought been long lost. Crossover with LOTR_**

 ** _Warnings: child abuse, bashing of certain people. Some scenes of death._**

 ** _This story will only be around twenty chapters, each chapter will be around a thousand words or more  
_**

 ** _All unknown spells come from Imperator Atrum's story called Spells & Creatures. Link: s/2147931/1/_**

 _Beginning of pensieve memory_

 _October 31, 1981_

 _Standing on the corner of the street, hidden under his Invisibility cloak, oh how he longed for the true Invisibility cloak, Albus Dumbledore stood and watched. Watched the "supposedly" evil Lord Voldemort kill two promising young wizards. His gaze keen and sharp as the third and final green light lit up the nursery._

 _Then the cottage heaved under a backlash of magic. Moving along, Albus wondered what he would see, would Voldemort have finished off the last direct line of Gryffindor and died in the attempt to claim the old magic? Since he isn't of Gryffindor lineage, the magic would reject his claim and kill him most violently._

 _Dumbledore smiled in satisfaction. Once he claimed the Gryffindor magic for himself, Dumbledore's are a minor offshoot of the great noble house, he would use the magic to create a utopia. A utopia that worshiped the ground he walked on. He would be a kind and benevolent king. Where people would bow to his every whim and do anything and everything to keep him happy._

 _The Potter family could make a more direct claim while being the main family. Potters are the direct descendants of Godric Gryffindor and Rowena Ravenclaw._

 _But he had hidden the knowledge from the Potters, he didn't need pawns far stronger then him. Whatever came out of this, he would be better off. Even if the Potters did survive, he could use them as canon fodder for the war._

 _As an Auror, Potter is a quick-thinking and dedicated man, he could be easily led to his death by sending him on missions that would easily break a lesser man. As an unspeakable, Potter is quiet brilliant. Albus knew that leading the fire-haired woman to her death would be to be planned out carefully._

 _Or did he kill off the Potters, who had been major problems for him and poor innocent Harry Potter? Walking through the door, Albus stepped over the still and lifeless form of James Potter, wand clenched in his hand. Hazel eyes still staring, shock and horror in those expressive eyes._

 _Kneeling, Albus removed the wand from the dead man's grip. He needed people to believe that the Potter's trusted him. He wandlessly erased all the spells that Potter had cast. Wiping the wand clean and lying it down on the table._

 _If Dumbledore would of turned at that moment, he would of seen the soul of James Potter leave the now dead body. Dressed in golden armor, a quiver of arrows peeked over his shoulder. A longbow hung off his shoulder. From over his back, crossed swords would be seen and two swords hung off his hip. The normally short messy hair fell in long waves down his back, two pointed ears peeked out from behind the curtain of curls. A long hard look at the headmaster, then James Potter turned towards the faintly glowing elf that beckoned him through the portal._

 _Unbeknownst the venerable Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a group of Phoenixia, beings that are half human and half-Phoenix. Beings that have all the powers of a phoenix, wings included. Practically immortal, the Phoenixias were immune to all known curses and hexes._

 _The tallest immortal being glanced at the group of hatchlings clustered around him. They all had felt the killing curse being used, the death of two and the survival of the third. Watching the house, the Phoenixia named Zeus made plans and waited._

 _Moving up the steps, they groaned ominously under his weight. Albus knew casting a strengthening spell would push it, no one needed to know that he had been here and then they might question why he couldn't of saved the young family._

 _Pushing the nursery door open, his gaze fell on the two very dead bodies. The dark haired Riddle, Yew wand clenched in his grip, a look of utter shock and surprise on his frozen face. Lying at the edge of the cradle, looking as if she was just asleep, Lily Potter laid oh so still, wand lying on her chest, still clutched in her grip. Dumbledore heard a soft whimper, his gaze shot towards the cradle._

 _Standing on unsteady legs, blood racing down his face, young Harry Potter cried out "Mama!" In a quiet shocking display of magic, the young fifteen month old Apparated out of cradle, right into the slack embrace of his mother. Albus inhaled softly, the boy reeked of magic. The Gryffindor magic had protected him from the dark lord's wrath and killing curse and imbued the young tot with ancient and powerful magic. Dumbledore scowled, he couldn't have that. He needed a pliable and magically weak martyr, not a trained mage._

 _His plans revolved on having a weak, malleable and loyal weapon that would do his bidding. He also needed a friend that his weapon would turn to. And he knew where he could find a perfect person. A light-oriented family that would have no qualms in taking in a needy savior. And would write up a contract with them between Harry and their youngest daughter._

 _Listening to the soft creak of footsteps on the walk "James? Oh lord Jamsie!" Hearing the muffle cry from Sirius Black, Dumbledore made up his plan. Whipping the cloak off, folding it up and placing it in a pocket. Before casting a charm to make everyone see Hagrid instead of him. Scooping up the young child, Dumbledore moved down the steps._

 _"Hagrid? Is Lily... oh god. Lily!" Tears racing down his face, Sirius Black reaching for the child in his arms, gray eyes brimming with pain, and determination. Drawing back, Dumbledore murmured "Albus will know what to do."_

 _"He's my godson!" Black rasped angrily, "I swore to James and Lily I'd take care of Harry! Their wills state I am to be his guardian."_

 _Dumbledore slowly moved his wand, placed him under a compulsion spell to go and find Peter Pettigrew. Watching as Black Apparated off, he smirked. Now to get the real Hagrid to get the blasted boy to those disgustingly normal Dursley's._

 _He knew of the magic hating Dursley's and what better place to place a powerful wizard who would be beaten for his talents. A nasty smile crossed his face. Come eleven years from now and he would be looking at a weaken mage, someone to control and manipulated into confrontations with the dark lord._

 _Meeting up with Professor McGonagall, they chatted softly. Until McGonagall asked why they were here._

 _"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."* Dumbledore explained, pleased with himself. He knew that the Dursley's hated magic, hated the Potters._

 _"You can't mean here! Are you off the rocker Albus Dumbledore, these Muggles wouldn't raise Harry properly. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And their son, I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!"_

 _"It is for the Greater good," Dumbledore stated in a self-important tone of voice, puffing his chest out "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."_

 _"A Letter?!" McGonagall shrieked in shock before sitting down on the fence, shock plastered on her face. "A letter, how would you explain to them, that this boy you are apparently abandoning on their porch, is the savior of the wizarding world? How will Harry cope with the fact when he receives his letter, he is famous for something his mother did before she died. There will be books written about him! People will know his name!"_

 _"I know, I do not want the child growing up knowing of his fame. He will turn out exactly like the Malfoy's."_

 _As they fell silent for several minutes, Dumbledore thinking of all the things he had to do. Once he is alone with the child, he would cast magical suppressors, limiters on his magic. He didn't need the boy freaking out his Muggle relatives._

 _"So where is Harry?" McGonagall finally asked, looking at him askance, as if he had little Harry hidden in one of his pockets._

 _"Hagrid's bringing him."*_

 _"You think it wise to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"*_

 _"I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.*_

 _As a rumbling sound filled the air, a massive motorcycle landed. As the huge giant of a man stepped off, cradling something in his arms gently._

 _Once alone with the young boy, Albus began casting the necessary charms, magical blocks, suppressors. Capping his magic at thirty percent, he would be below an average wizard his age. He also cast hexes that would make the Muggles despise the child._

 _He laid the child back down with the letter. Walking off, he Apparated away with nary a sound._

 _A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley... He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter—the boy who lived!"*_

End of Pensieve memory.

Backing out of the marble basin, the fourteen year old stared down at the innocent looking basin with wide betrayed eyes. With the shaggy black hair and bright green eyes, this young man is the boy from the Pensieve. Ignoring for the moment, the soft comforting voices coming from the paintings, Harry Potter sat down in the chair. Once he regained his composure, he glanced up to the paintings.

Noting the kind looks, the compassionate faces. He rubbed his eyes, pushing aside the glasses for a moment. Swiping at his watery eyes, but he refused to let the tears fall.

He had been wandering the halls, having no friends that wanted to stand with him during these troubling times when his name was called from the Goblet. Only one person believed him and that was Cedric. The Hufflepuff promised to talk to the other champions and his own house. At least someone believed him that he did not put his name in the blasted goblet.

He had been wandering when a painting directed him to the empty headmaster office. And when he saw the Pensieve, it was as if someone placed him under a spell to look inside. That's when he realized his life is being manipulated.

"Why?" He asked in a broken tone. One of the former headmaster, Phineas Black said softly "during Voldemort's reign of terror, people looked to Dumbledore because he had fought and defeated an even darker wizard by the name of Gellert Grindwald. People saw him as a beacon of light, someone to place their trust in. His over-inflated ego needs to be popped. And who better then the young man he so cruelly pitted against the worst sort of Mundanes ever to live."

"Mundanes?" Harry asked, feeling the comforting weight of Fawkes on his shoulder. Trilling softly and gently in his ear. His weight, warm and heavy against the shoulder. Phineas nodded. "Yes Mundanes. Have you ever wondered who came up with that appallingly racist word? It is Albus too bloody many names Dumbledore. He wanted people to flock to him."

Scratching Fawkes behind the head, Harry asked "I thought Phoenix's only bonded to light wizards?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Lord of The rings.**

"Another misconception set forth by the bloody fool." Another painting piped up, "Phoenix's will bond to whoever they choose. A dark lord by the name of Lord Chaos had bonded with a phoenix, an earth phoenix. Their bond was so great, it took nine killing curses to kill the man and sever the connection between him and the blasted bird. And Fawkes is not bonded to _Him_ , but to the school itself. The school has a lot of ambient magic to support Fawkes' incredible lifespan. He's been with the school for over three hundred years. And Dumbledore's phoenix is a mere fire phoenix, not a royal red which Fawkes is."

"Wow." Harry eyed the red gold bird preening under his fingers. His gaze fell on the Pensieve, before his trained seeker sights caught glimpse of the crest. "What crest is that?"

Scratching Fawkes chin, Harry leaned back in the chair he is sitting in, tears glimmering at the back of his eyelids, but he refused to cry.

Phineas sighed softly. The soft murmur of outrage filled the office. Lifting his gaze to meet the bright green eyes of the teen, Phineas spoke "That is the Potter crest. Dumbledore has stolen many important items from your ancestral vaults. Though lucky for you that money could not be taken or he would of robbed you blind."

Sinking back in the chair, Harry stared blankly at the swirling contents of the Pensieve. "How do I go about reclaiming my things?" Phineas smirked, now there is the Potter spirit and fire. That many people happened to enrage on several moments, proving this teen is indeed Charlus' grandson.

Not too many people knew that Phineas and Harry's great-great-grandpa Theodore Potter had been friends, thick as thieves. Neither had been light or dark respectively, but gray. Phineas had been witness to the birth of Charlus Potter. That where they had the idea to set a betrothal between Charlus and Phineas' youngest daughter Dorea. And it had been a match made in heaven, the two had compliment each other magic wise. Dorea, with her infinite patience and kindness. Charlus with his deep love for dangerous animals and a deep abiding respect for wild magic that ran rampart in his burly frame.

A Wild magic mage, Charlus could not be defined. His temper could run hotter then lava or colder then the ice caps. His emotions defined him. He could either be the best friend you could ever imagine or the most dangerous enemy you least wanted. He had fought Voldemort many times and the dark lord came out worse then the Lord Potter.

It had taken six teams of Death Eaters to break the wards about the Potter castle. Charlus had taken out five of the six teams when the remaining team managed too kill Dorea. In his rage at seeing his wife slaughtered, Charlus had blown the castle up with him and the remaining death eaters. No bodies were found in the rubble. Phineas knew that Charlus could have survived. He should probably start looking for the missing Wild Mage.

If he had thought his son and his family was dead, there was no way in Hell would Charlus would remain in Britain, he would go overseas, to the Americas where Wild Mages ran rampart. America, most notably South America had an over abundance of Wild Mages, none of Charlus' level, but each would be a match to handle problems.

"Goblins, go see the goblins. They can and will help the last Potter reclaim his stolen things. Before you leave young champion, look on the shelf there. There is a book you might be interesting in reclaiming now."

Getting out the chair, Harry walked over to the bookcase. Finding the book Phineas had pointed out. The massive leather-bound book, heavy and warm. Staring down at the title "Gryffindor-Potter grimoire." His gaze widened. Phineas said "there will be many spells, potions, charms, and other things that the Potters and Gryffindor's are famous for. "

"How am I going to get it out of here? People are going to bound to notice this bloody big book!" Harry exclaimed.

"Try chapter six, third spell in." Phineas smirked slightly, the boy definitely had Charlus massive temper. Once the blocks were removed, Phineas knew that the boy would be one of the few Wild Mages left in Britain, something he knew Dumbledore didn't want. For Wild Mages are extremely neutral, they would fight if they had but given a chance, they'd let the two factions fight to the bitter end and when it seemed that the war would drag on, a Wild Mage would step in and end the fight.

Flipping through the book, Harry's gaze fell on the spell. "Beshen: Specifically created to shrink magic rich items, such as a family grimoire, or broomsticks. Even trunks from Trenten's Trunks. Wand movement is shown below. Pronounced Bee-shen."

Practicing the wand movement, Harry then cast the spell at the book. It shrunk down to the size of a matchstick book. Placing it in his pocket, Phineas said as he was leaving "At the goblins, have them remove the blocks on your magic."

Nodding to show he had been listening, Harry left the office. Instead of heading for the Gryffindor common rooms, he didn't need to face Ron's accusations, nor see the look of disappoint in Hermione's face. What bloody good friends he had, a jealous prat who only wanted to use him for his fame and a friend he thought was on his side, but only in it for the books.

He had seen other memories, of Dumbledore goading Ronald into making him wish he had his family and using Hermione's unwavering trust of adult figures to make her spy on him for books from the famed Potter Library.

That was if Dumbledore could ever find the massive library. Only a Potter knew where was the library. Harry knew now, but he couldn't let his former friend into the library.

His wandering brought him to the empty seventh floor corridor. Wishing he knew of a room where he could stay at, where no one would bother him. As he was pacing before a wall on the seventh floor, near the tapestry of dancing trolls.

A door appeared. Freezing, Harry pushed it open. Walking into a paradise. Literally. The room beyond is a tropical shore, sun beating down. Seeing a small hut, he walked towards it. In a rather nice looking beach house, he sat down. Resting his head in his hands, he stared at the wooden table. His emotions, his thoughts were scrambled about what he had learned about the Headmaster, his friends. Tears ran unchecked down his face, he scrubbed at his face.

"Young Master, if you be needing anything. Call for me, Lippy." The young house-elf chirped softly. Harry nodded, mind in a daze. Exploring the house, he found the master bedroom. Walking outside, he glanced around the quiet beach. Settling down in the sand, enjoying the warm sun on his face. Stripping out of his heavy robe, shucking off his t-shirt. Dressed only in his jeans, he wished he had a pair of swim trunks.

A pair appeared next to him, a rather skimpy pair, but he is alone. If he was braver, he wouldn't put them on. Staring down at his pale legs, he wondered how long it would take for him to get color on his legs.

Tugging them on, he laid back down in the sun-warmed sand. Lying there, staring up at the blue sky. He didn't know how long he laid there, but as the sun dimmed out, the sound of the night lulled him into a deep peaceful sleep. Lippy popped in soundlessly, draping a thin blanket over his thin form.

As he slept, three Phoenixia materialized in the room. Zeus glanced down at the slumbering teen. Lying his hand on his forehead, feeling the Horcrux in the child's scar recoil. The darkest of soul magics would not stand the brief connection of a pure soul as such as a Phoenixia.

Zeus murmured softly, wrapping the connection with a muffling charm. The child needed rest.

Sleeping himself out, he awoke with a start. Glancing about, he noted a thick piece of paper. Reading the letter supplied by the room. Apparently there is a time dilution field in effect in room. Rendering a minute outside an hour in. He had been asleep for twelve hours inside the room. Padding to the kitchen he called for Lippy. Getting breakfast.

Finishing off the last of the chocolate chip pancakes, the six slices of bacon, a side of scrambled eggs, toast and a glass of chocolate milk. Wiping his lips, feeling somewhat better. Redressing in his clothes, he watched as the dishes disappeared.

Wondering if the room had a fireplace connected to floo, with no one being the wiser. Seeing a fireplace appear with a pot of floo powder. After managing to finish his breakfast, Harry then flooed to Gringotts.

Gringotts Floo Center

Manning the Floo station, Griphook glanced up when the flames turned emerald. Glancing up to see the see the address. Eyes widening briefly at the address "Room of Requirement, private access. Harry Potter." Then a teen came stumbling out of the fireplace, nearly tripped over his feet as he tried to regain his balance.

Surprised to see the sickly pallor on the boy's face, Griphook thought back to the day he had met the shy, too thin savior. Then his brows narrowed. Casting several subtle healing charms he had learned at his mother's knee. The boy is a stone under weight, anemic, had several badly healed bones. And what made his blood boil, there is blocks on his magic, his core and tearing of the anus. The poor boy had been raped.

Without taking his eyes off the teen, Griphook subtly called over one of the healers. They employed both Goblin and human healers, though the goblin healers rarely worked on humans, but for this boy, they would make an exception.

"Hey Griphook, can I see my account manager?" The teen finally asked as he regained his sense of balance. His gaze fell on the healer. They had on site healers, whether they be goblin or human. The healer though approaching is Goblin. Eyes widening slightly, Harry asked "Griphook? What's going on?"

"Would you come with me Mr. Potter?" The healer spoke in a brisk no-nonsense tone, demanding that he follow. Griphook nodded, saw the teen sigh before shuffling off after the healer. Head ducked as if he didn't want anyone to see him.

He found someone else to man to floo stations. Gathering up the Potter account manager, though he sensed in that moment the goblin was going to make a break for it. As the manager dashed through the quiet corridors, jacket flapping as he ran. He did not see the knife, thrown by one of the on-duty guard. Felt the sharp prick of pain as the knife entered the base of his skull. He dropped, nary a sound.

Well, Griphook thought as the guards began to drag the corpse off, the dragon guarding the important vaults would get a good meal today. His gaze fell on the piece of paper the manager had been writing on. His lips thinned, this needed to be brought forth to the king.

For written on the scrap of paper is:

"Dumbledore, the boy is at Gringotts. A goblin healer has taken to the ritual room. Stonehaven"

While all this is happening, Harry is lying a table, listening to the soft murmuring of voices. Having had been disrobed before he had known. The goblins had seemed shock at the sight of his pallid skin. Listening to the argument happening over head, Harry sat up. Two goblin healers and two human healers were heatedly discussing something in the goblin language.

"I don't have all day." He spoke up, then flushed at eight eyes turned towards him. The healers nodded and he got the feeling whatever they had planned was going to be painful.

By the end of the removal of the blocks and limiters, he is panting in pain, sweat drenching him and feeling as if he had been stomped on repeatedly. Lying there, gasping through the pain, Harry heard the voice of the male goblin healer "The last thing, is the soul fragment in your scar. I am afraid we can't give you anything for the pain and you must be awake for the whole procedure.


End file.
